“Oh, tell us—” began Carin. But just then Miss Zillah entered.
“My dears,” she said, “Mrs. McEvoy has kindly started the fire. Let us wash the dust off the dishes without delay. Mrs. McEvoy offers to provide us with vegetables, and our supplies will soon be here, so presently we shall have dinner.”
Keefe came forward from the shadow of the huge chimney.
“May I help with the dishes, please?” he asked. If he saw in Miss Zillah’s eyes a gleam of annoyance that she should have a third person foisted upon her care he paid no attention to it. She was too hospitable, moreover, to refuse.
“Yes,” she said, “if you do it well. Then, having paid for your dinner beforehand, you shall eat it with us.”
Azalea, who was already in the kitchen, heard the answer—and dropped the dipper.
CHAPTER IV
“SAY! TEACHER!”
The schoolhouse was ready. The books and tablets, pencils and stereopticon pictures ordered by Mr. Carson, all had come. The little house of the schoolteachers was ready, too. All that was wanting was the pupils.
But there was little doubt about them—they would soon be coming, for posted at corners of the main traveled roads, nailed on trees and tacked on station and post office walls were placards bearing the information that the Ravenel School was open and that all who wished to study would be welcomed. To make plain the nature of the invitation even to those who could not read, Carin painted on each placard a picture of the schoolhouse, and put beyond it a beckoning hand, which, as she explained, was her idea of sign writing.
“Why, even the groundhogs and chipmunks ought to be able to understand that,” said Azalea.